Better Nature
by The Pepper Pot
Summary: One year after Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, Newt Scamander comes back to New York to give Tina her book. When he does, disturbances show up, sending our heroes on a wild and rearing adventure up and down the Eastern Seaboard.
1. Chapter 1

"Hey, Tini?" Tina looked up from the cup of coffee she was nursing. Mornings were getting colder and the apartment seals weren't as fresh as they used to be. Mrs. Esposito hadn't bothered to re-weatherproof the place over the summer and now it showed in the slight chills and drafts through the place.

Queenie was standing in the doorway, fully dressed, but without her coat and shoes. It wasn't quite time to go, but Queenie clearly had something on her mind. "Is now a good time?"

Tina nodded and took another sip of her drink, more quietly and with more presence of mind than she'd shown before. "Of course. Do you want to sit down?"

Queenie shook her head, and shifted from one foot to the other. Her fingers slid together. "Tini, I think I'm going to move in with Jacob." Tina put her cup down, now fully awake, her sleepy brain already formulating protests-he was a No-Mag, she would have to give up so much or live in secret from him, they knew none of the same people-but Queenie cut her off. "Look, I know there are problems, but there'll always be problems, won't there? With anyone?" Tina paused, then frowned. From the practical to the personal, she had a feeling this wouldn't be wise. "He cooks, Tina, it's not like I'll have to re-learn that. How hard can cleaning be? Come on, I'll just say I work for the State. That's not even a stretch of the truth."

"Well, you've made up your mind to go." Tina took another sip of her coffee and closed her eyes. "I will miss you, but I won't try and stop you."

Queenie was silent for a moment, then Tina heard her pull out a chair and sit down across the table. "That's it, Tini?"

"What more is there to say? I like Jacob. If you have a thing for a no-mag, I'm glad it's him." She drained her coffee and picked up her wand to send it over to the sink to give itself a scrub. "When do you think you'll be moving out?" Over and over in her mind, she wondered if she wouldn't need to get a new place, as well. This one was charming, but even if it were properly cared for, she might not want to stay without Queenie.

"Oh, maybe a week or two. He's invited me a couple of times, though, so I could go any time. I figured since you're an auror again, you can afford to stay on your own, and his business has really taken off, so we've got nothing to worry about."

It was true. Now that she had more money coming in, she didn't have to live with anyone to make ends meet. Still, she'd been with her sister since they'd finally grown out of their rivalry phase. It would be odd to have the place to herself-perhaps she'd have to start a proper social calendar like most witches she knew-divination club or potions club or the like. "Oh, of course, of course I'll be fine."

"Tina, don't worry." Tina blinked, and realized she'd been fretting rather loudly. "You won't become one of those potion club witches. You'll be welcome by any time, or I could come back to visit-we'll see each other at work." Queenie took her hands and smiled her wide, gleaming smile that just made you want to hand her the world. "Or...he has a guest room, you know."

"No." Tina smiled, trying to soften the firm answer. "Thank you, but no, I think I'll be fine here on my own. Don't worry-do you think you'll need help moving?" As if half Queenie's things hadn't been shuttled over to the apartment above the bakery already.

She shook her head and the honey bob flopped from side to side. "I don't think so. But if it'll make you feel better to see me settled, I'll let you." She winked, then stood. "Might want to hurry up if you want the bathroom to yourself. The kids down the hall just woke up." She retreated to the sitting area and picked up a copy of Urban Witch.

Tina's teeth clicked together, as she tried to sort through what Queenie had said. Before she'd made her announcement, Tina had been considering what to have for breakfast, now she was trying to think of a place to stay and how she'd ever maintain her social life. The sound of little feet scurrying around in the room across the hall and the shouting of Mrs. Barker trying to herd them brought Tina to the moment again. She pulled her robe tighter and walked herself down the hall to pull pins from her hair and smear cream on her face.

By the time she got back, it was nearly time to go and Queenie had placed a pastry in a napkin for her to nosh on the way to work. Next to the napkin there was a note.

THEY SAY WE ARRIVE AT TWO STOP I HAVE YOUR BOOK STOP NEWBORN YOU WILL WANT TO MEET STOP

Tina read it a couple of times, then turned to her sister. "Queenie, did you leave this here?" She held up the piece of paper and turned to her sister.

Queenie wasn't in the living room, and she had to step out of the bedroom to ask, "what, where?" Her eyes flicked down to the note, and she smiled before shaking her head. "What's it say, Tini?"

Tina turned it over a couple times, then shoved it in her robe pocket, and squeezed past her sister into the bedroom to choose something to wear. "It's from Newt." A suit of grey, a loose skirt, and a hat that would match her overcoat. Same coat, same locket, new shoes. She came back out with her bag and the note and gloves in her hand. "Shall we?" she asked, and nodded to the door.

Queenie came close and took Tina's arm. Tina wondered if she did it because she was leaving so soon, if she felt as homesick as Tina. "Sounds good to me." They left and locked the door, but though she felt that perhaps she should be more grounded than ever with her sister leaving, Tina couldn't help how excited she was at the thought of seeing Newt again.


	2. Chapter 2

New York started off on the horizon like a little bit of fuzz one evening, back lit by the setting sun. To Newt's eyes, it was almost invisible, and then it was gone to the night. He had seen it from the dining room, but by the time he finished his meal and went up to the deck for a closer look, it was gone. He had returned to his room to sit by lamplight and work on the textbook he had been commissioned to write next, focusing on dragons. The work took him until he was tired enough to turn in, but even so, Newt found it difficult to sleep with New York so close.

By morning, when Newt woke, dressed, and came up to the deck, he saw that the skyline was significantly closer than it had been last night, and it was quickly approaching. He stood and watched for almost a half hour, and by the end, he decided for himself that it would still be several hours, though he stopped one of the crew members as well, to ask, "excuse me, when do you think we'll be making landfall?"

The man didn't even need to look to the land. "We'll be there by eleven or noon, but don't get hasty. Customs might take an hour or two, so you won't be where you need to be until amost two."

"Thank you," Newt replied, left the deck to head to the dining room for breakfast. When he reached the table, he wrote a quick note on the back of a place card, telling Tina when he would land. "Vade," he whispered as he tapped the paper with his wand, letting it disappear from the table and reappear where she might see it.

With breakfast out of the way, Newt returned one last time to his room, where he packed his suitcase with his type writer, his field notes, his change of clothes, the books he had brought with him, and, admittedly, his bowtruckle's terrarium. Pickett still had attachment issues and wouldn't let go of Newt's lapel. "Promise to hide when we go through immigration?" The little guy nodded and Newt placed him on his shoulder, "good on you, here we go." And with that, he closed the lid on his case, and took it up to the benches on the deck of the ship. By now, New York was very close, and individual buildings could be made out.

It wasn't much longer before they landed and Newt was ushered through the immigrations with the other passengers. On the other side of customs and immigration, Newt scanned the crowd. Tina hadn't ever replied to his note, and he wondered if she had come or gotten the message at all. After looking about, he started to wonder if he had remember her face well enough to recognize her, or if she would have done the same and forgotten him. Surely, they both couldn't have?

But after a minute or so of searching about amongst the New York muggles, Newt started to doubt that she had come, and decided he would have to find another way of getting in touch with her. He headed inland, towards the heart of the city where he remembered Tina and Queenie had kept rooms a year ago, and more or less towards Congress where the two ladies worked. He got about a block under way when he heard a call from behind, "hey, Newt." She almost dropped the "t" so it came out like "New'."

Newt turned around and saw Tina standing there, clearly having come from the same way as him, perhaps even having waited for him to come ashore. "Tina," he said, and came back towards her. He couldn't believe he'd imagined he could forget how she looked; she hadn't changed in the whole last year—not a wrinkle not an ounce. He smiled, and moved his case to his other hand.

"Where were you going?" she asked, catching up to him. "I came."

"Ah, yes. I see that." He pointed inland, "but I wasn't sure you would, so I was just going to see myself to-"

"Give me more credit than that, Newt. I came." She was looking at him like she couldn't believe it. Perhaps it was harder to believe someone would show up in a strange habitat than it was to find Tina in hers.

"Of course. But I figured you had already-"

"Left without you? No, of course not. I wanted to meet you here." She linked her arm through his, and began to walk up into the city. "How was your trip?" Wind whipped her short hair under her hat.

"It was alright. There was work to do, but not much else. I'm glad to be on solid ground again."

"Work?" Tina asked, "is this a new book deal?"

"After reading my manuscript," Newt explained, "I was commissioned a few new titles. Really rather generous—I spend most of my time in the field."

"That's fantastic, Newt, I'm so happy for you." She stopped, and turned to him, seriously. "Before we go in anywhere, I have to ask you," her eyes dropped to the suit case. "What might I find if I were to open that?"

Newt lifted it and shook his head. "A typewriter?"

"No creatures?"

"You made it very clear they weren't invited this time around."

"Anything else?"

"Your copy of Fantastic Beasts?" There wasn't much else, really.

Tina smiled. "I can't wait to read it. It's being sold here, too, you know, but I waited for my copy." She continued to lead him down the street towards where, Newt did not know.

"That was very kind of you."

"You keep coming to New York in winter. You must think it's always a frozen wasteland here. It's not, most of the year."

Newt smiled, almost laughed, at that comment. It seemed to come out of nowhere. "At least the seasons are similar to Europe. Some places I work don't have seasons at all."

"Really?" Tina seemed surprised by this.

"Of course. The closer to the Equator you get, the less seasons occur. And in the southern hemisphere, they all happen oddly because the currents work differently." Tina nodded along. "You get all sorts in those environments. The magical properties show off differently, which is really a remarkable trait. I got to go to New Zealand this year, and-"

Tina stopped and pulled open a door. Newt had noticed the sign from half way down the block, but hadn't know this as their destination.

"-and the dragons there are really quite remarkable."

"Let's go inside. You can tell me over something warm. I'm guessing you haven't had lunch, and I have some time before I'm due back at work."

"Oh, thank you," replied Newt, and ducked inside the warm pub. A hostess invited them to a table, and Newt stowed his suit case underneath, and let the hostess check his coat and Tina's.

"I thought your second trip to New York should include something more cultured than you got last time. This place might look like hole in the wall, but it's the best, believe you me." Tina folded her menu over, and Newt could tell she was a regular and already knew her order. He studied the menu, then decided on the one vegetarian offering—chowder.

Just as the server came by, there was an earth quake.


	3. Chapter 3

Tina leapt up and braced herself against the table. Above their heads, the chandeliers shook and dangled and piles of fruit rolled and bounced onto the floor. Wizards and witches all around them darted and ducked to try and get to safety or out of the way of the rush. Curtains were drawn over the windows, so Tina couldn't look outside to see if the disturbance was local or general, and then she had to wonder if it was mundane or magical.

She looked up, to see that Newt had fallen to the floor—no, he was creeping along the floor with an ear down and his coat dragging behind him. "What are you doing?" she asked, her question almost a plead with him to get up off the floor before someone stepped on his hands or head, or tripped over him and hurt themselves.

Newt ignored her, and only continued to listen to the ground, leaving Tina to try and stand guard over him so he could complete his—whatever he was doing down there.

The rumbling had come on quickly, and though it felt like several minutes of chaos, the rumbling had come and gone in less than one. Wizards and witches who had pushed themselves into corners and door frames and the cellar began to shake off the fright and come back to their knocked-about meals and their personal belongings. Tina wrenched her hands off the table and helped Newt off the ground. The enchanted necklace she wore burned hot, paging her to come in to the office. "I'm sorry to cut this short, but I have to go back to work." She pulled out her coat slip and handed it to the host, then started fishing around in her wallet. "Here's his business card."

"Whose?" He took it, but looked to her for the answer.

"Mr. Kowalski. Queenie reintroduced herself last spring. She'll be at Congress now, but he'll let you stay. He won't remember you, of course, and don't do anything...suspicious or magical while you're there, okay?" The host returned with her overcoat and she pulled it and her hat on, then her gloves, and shoved her wallet and put it in her pocket before buttoning the outside.

"Oh, right, yes."

"Newt?"

"Yes?"

She had only just remembered that perhaps he hadn't gotten the chance to change his galleons to New Wizarding Dollars. "Do you have any NWD?"

"Oh course, I had them exchanged weeks ago."

"We'll have dinner. Either at mine or at Mr. Kowalski's."

"Of course. It'll be nice to see him again. I wasn't expecting to get the chance." He raised the card like a toast, then picked up his suit case and turned to leave. When Tina saw that he was planning to go, she disapparated and reappeared seconds later just outside the Congress building.

The Major Investigations Department was already abuzz with sightings, reports, picture evidence, collected memories, and more when Tina arrived, and stood around the main table with Madam President.

"Goldstein," she addressed the auror, "you're late."

"I'm here now, Madam President."

"Do you have any current case you're working on?"

"No, Madam President," she replied. She was in the middle of a write-up, but she could do that any time, or have her secretary do it if push came to shove.

"Good, I want you on the investigative team for the recent earthquakes."

"I was just down there—were there more?"

"Quite a few more. Manhattan is not prone to earthquakes and we need to know what's causing them." She gestured to three other witches in a side office, pouring over photographs, maps, and time tables.

"Of course, Madam President." Tina turned to join the three, and draped her coat over her chair. The map showed all the locations where there had been earth quakes in the last two days. "What have we got?"

Melinda Mayer pushed a reference book towards Tina. It was open to a passage about magical quakes. "Not much—we've started less than an hour ago, but this is the best we've got." The passage read:

Magical Earthquakes, sometimes referred to as Spontaneous Quakes, are similar to, yet different from, normal earthquakes. Normal earthquakes are formed when the plates of the Earth's crust move sufficiently to cause trauma on the surface, moving the land masses from several inches to several feet, or more. Magical Earthquakes, on the other hand, often have the same result as a normal earthquake, though they manifest differently. The similarities end with the shaking of the ground, and at first glance, the two are identical. The causes of a Magical Earthquake may be; human manifestation, the act of a Beast, or a dire unbalance in the magical auras in a region.

Magical unbalance is the most common of these, but differs by region. Some regions of great tension between wizarding communities will have a great amount of preexisting trauma. Any slight unbalance of the magical communities which exist in such a precarious situation are particularly susceptible to the Magical Earthquakes. This kind of unbalance is most common in the case of migratory wizarding communities which leave one land which is used to their magic and move to another one, which has been previously used to another kind of magic. In these extreme situations, the earth itself becomes a sponge to the excess magical energy and shifts itself to accommodate.

The second most common is of human manifestation. There are recorded instances (45) (46) (47) which document the use of a singular or a few wizards' magic in order to create disturbance in a region. This is most often done before a dark witch or wizard comes into a town or region of No-Majs to take control. This disorienting tactic can be used to paint the witch or wizard as a savior to be trusted or a dictator to be feared.

Finally, there are few creatures which tunnel and can create sufficient movement to cause a temporary earthquake. Such things are only common where there are no humans, magical or otherwise.

Tina put down the book. "I suppose the best plan of action is to start interviewing eye witnesses and questioning suspects." She reached for her coat. "Anyone with me?"

"I'll get a camera," replied Mayer. They left Dingle and Spawling, who waved them off, to their maps.


	4. Chapter 4

The shop was still packed at noon when David and Randel arrived for their shifts and took over the counter and stocking from Jacob. The proprietor's days started early when he began to fire the ovens and bake the loaves, then ice the confections and make the displays. Then, the shop opened at six every morning, managed the shop for six hours with the help of Mike and finally he could turn over the rest to the boys at midday.

Just then, just after noon, Jacob usually looked forward to a lunch of whichever leftovers Queenie had left him from the night before followed by a nap. This day, however, Jacob was just getting around to re heating stew on the stove, when there came a knock on the door. Queenie almost always left work early—how else could she arrive promptly at five every evening?—but this was too early, even for her. It must be Mrs. Prewhitt from across the hall, or one of the other neighbors, Jacob decided. But when he reached the door, he found that it was neither Mrs. Prewhitt or anyone else he knew. Rather, it was an odd, rather unsure looking man at his doorstep. "Hey…" he said, unsure of what this man was here for.

"Hello." The man was English. You didn't hear too many Englishmen in this part of the city. He didn't seem sure of what to say, and Jacob was on the verge of prompting him when the Englishman said, "you don't remember me. We met once before, perhaps a year ago. My name is Newt Scamander—I'm a friend of Queenie's." He put out his hand, and Jacob took it, shaking it slowly, trying to jog some memory of the encounter. Nothing occurred to him.

All the same, if he knew Queenie…

"Listen, I don't want to intrude, but when I arrived in the city, her sister Tina met me—but she was called back to work and she thought maybe I could wait here, if that's not too much trouble."

Jacob frowned and shook his head. He saw nothing wrong with that. He wished he could remember who Newt Scamander was. It wasn't a name you were soon to forget, not on a typical day. "No, of course it's no trouble, come in." He opened the door further and stepped aside to let Mr. Scamander inside.

"I see you've managed to open your bakery." Mr. Scamander put down his bag, and looked about the apartment. Jacob felt that perhaps he was looking for something, but couldn't imagine what.

"Oh, that's right. I suppose I mentioned that when we met. Hey, I was just going to fix myself something for lunch—I don't know if you've eaten?" The smell of stew was already starting to permeate through the apartment.

The Englishman had still not taken off his coat, and hadn't come too far into the apartment, either. "Ah, no. No, I haven't."

"Then why don't you join me," Jacob offered, and took down a second bowl. He didn't often get company at lunch.

"Thank you, Jacob."

Jacob paused. Mr. Scamander spoke as if they were friends. Had they hit it off, and he simply didn't remember? Finally, Mr. Scamander seemed to warm up to the space a little better, and took his coat off, and hung it on the coat rack. "I don't think you ever told me the story of how you met the Goldstein sisters," he prompted, eager to know more about this virtual stranger.

Newt stood up from where he had been staring at a few uncolored family photographs, and the ones his mother had taken the time to color with pencils. She'd had a good eye for it. "It was about a year ago, my first time in New York. I—" he smiled broadly at the floor. "I got into a little trouble. Tina's an inspector which is actually how we met, but it led to spending the better part of a long weekend with her and her sister."

"Ahh." Jacob couldn't help but think there was quite a bit more to the story that Mr. Scamander wanted kept private. "If you don't mind my asking, Mr. Scamander, what kind of trouble?"

There was that smile again, as if he were reliving a particularly good memory. "I care for rare animals. A few of them got loose in the city and she helped me get them back. Had a nasty time of it, too, as I recall." He put his hand to his neck and pivoted around the table to look at one of the lamps. Jacob shrugged off the oddity.

"Stew's hot," he said.

After lunch, though Jacob had meant to be a better host, his daily cycle took root. He felt the first hints of sleep while they were still idly chatting about the Goldsteins and about work—it turned out this guy was a writer, too. Then, Jacob turned on the radio to listen to, and Scamander pulled several typed pages out of his suit case. He was such amiable company, and the scratch of his pen was so rhythmic and the radio was so pleasant, the room so warm, that Jacob was lulled, all the same, into his afternoon nap.

He woke sharply at a minute to five. His body never let him sleep a minute longer. For a moment, he had to look about and wonder why he was in his chair, not in his bed, but then he saw that Scamander had moved to the kitchen table and was pouring over several pages with charts and pictures. It looked like a reference book, a field book. He stood and came up behind his guest, and saw that they were pictures of dragons and other mythical beasts. "What's this you're working on?"

The other man paused, as if he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't have. There was something ever so slightly guilty about his demeanor, Jacob thought. But he answered, "a sort of guide to fantasy creatures. There's a lot of fiction being written, you know, and someone's got to write an index."

Jacob had never heard of such a thing, but didn't think it right to argue with a man over his own work. Just then, as the clock on the mantel rang, there was a knock on the door before it opened again, showing Queenie herself. "Oh," she puffed, looking cold from the winter air, "Tini told me you were back today."

Jacob relaxed. Scamander was alright—he certainly didn't seem the type to get up to something—but it was reassuring to know Queenie and he had, in fact, met. Queenie put her coat and hat on the rack, ran fingers through her curling blonde hair, and sauntered over to where Scamander was almost frantically putting papers back together in a stack. "It's so good to see you. So's Tini. She says she can't wait to read your book, but I know what she's really thinking."

Tini had a knack for that. Jacob had always enjoyed just how easy it was to be around Queenie, who always seemed to know just what to do or to say. How he'd gotten set with her, why she still stayed around him, Jacob thought it better not to question.

"Queenie," Newt stuttered, seeming taken aback by the sight of the beautiful woman. "You look well."

"Thank you," she chirped. "Oh, but I only saw Tini on the way out today. She looked like she was pretty busy with something. She had a camera and one of the other investigators was with her as they left, I'm not sure she'll be home for dinner tonight. Oh, and speaking of, I still have time for shopping, so if you have any requests," she paused for a moment, scrunched up her face and shook her head, "really?"

Jacob laughed. "She's a mind reader," he explained. "I thought it was a trick at first, but doggone it if she isn't always right. At least with me, she is."

"Oh," said Scamander, as if he were just remembering something. "Queenie, you're a great cook. I'm sure whatever you decide will be lovely." He didn't break eye contact with Queenie, and it seemed there was something else he wanted to say. "In fact, how about I come shopping with you? I can carry your bags."

"Such a gentleman," Queenie replied, and pulled a face like she was thinking hard. "How about shepherd's pie instead?"

xxxXXXxxxXXXxxx

It was a short walk from Jacob's apartment to the grocer's and the butcher's. By now, the streets were dark and strangers bustled against one another on their way to and from their destinations. "It's nice to see you again, Newt, it really is," Queenie chattered as they went. "Tini's trying not to show how much she's looked forward to it, but she has.  
"Oh, these days she's pretty busy at work, you know how it is. She hasn't gotten a second promotion or anything, but she's enjoying being on the investigative team again." Queenie stopped at a stall to pick out potatoes and carrots. She eyed each one before putting it in her bag. "She keeps getting the strangest cases, too. Things aren't like they used to be. Lost child here, a scam potion there.

"Yeah, that was a mess for a while. You have to be pretty careful, still, deciding what's going to cure your cough and what'll make you go blind, but there's a department for that now. It was all pretty normal stuff for a while, and now there's turmoil.

"I'm afraid I don't know how else to put it, Newt." Queenie turned and headed towards the shop door. "There's something going on and I couldn't tell you what it is. I don't know if Tini could, either. But there's something—"

Newt opened the door for Queenie as she walked into the grocer's shop to pay. "If you asked me, it has to do with the earthquake we had earlier. Scared me, sure enough."  
"Twelve cents," prompted the grocer. Queenie handed over the copper and silvery coins, then Newt picked up her bag and the two left the shop.

"You've stayed friends with Jacob," Newt observed. He hadn't supposed they would. It wasn't very like the American wizards to do such a thing.

Queenie gave a little shrug. "We're friends," she replied. Then, for a long moment, she was uncharacteristically quiet. "Well, we're moving in together soon," she added softly, as if she knew she was doing something she wasn't supposed to do.

Newt nodded. He understood her hesitation. "You know," he started—

Queenie held the door this time for Newt, and he stepped inside the butcher's shop. "It's not like this in England. Yeah. I've heard. Canada, too, and I've thought about moving to Montreal…but I don't have it in me to leave Tini. Just moving out is hard enough on her, and I want to stay close. We've been just us long enough, I think, that I shouldn't go far. But it's a nice thought.

"No, he doesn't know." Queenie was eyeing some cuts of lamb. "He has no idea. I leave it in my purse when I'm at his place, and he never asks. I never give him any reason." She looked up at the butcher and ordered, "one pound of lamb, please."

She turned back to Newt and smiled in a way that was undeniably happy, yet complicated. There was nothing easy, he realized, about her relationship with the muggle.

"That's exactly right. But I don't know if I want things to be easy. They're easy enough, compared to if we didn't get along, or if we didn't love each other like we should. I guess you have to pick your fights and cut your losses."

Newt smiled back at that. "You know, Queenie, you sounded like a right New Yorker just then."

"Really?" Now she was smiling, too, and uncomplicated, amused smile. She turned to accept the lamb, and the two went back to the apartment over the bakery.

Queenie cooked again, this time by hand. It was a little strange to see her do it, and everything took twice as long. When she was done, the dinner was delicious, but had no special quality like before, and even Queenie's conversation seemed a little stilted as she seemed to have to remind herself what the others had said and what they'd merely thought. Still, she did seem happy, in Newt's opinion.

Tina had still not joined them by the time the evening came to a close.

 **Rebecca Taylor:** Thank you! **Angie:** Hey there, sorry it took so long between uploads. I'm going to try and be better about it in the future. Hope you enjoy this chapter!


	5. Chapter 5

The rumbles had died away as quickly as they had started. Macusa agents Goldstein and Mayer made their way from the Congress building down to the area of lower Manhattan where the streets had experienced rumbles earlier that day. Now, as the two witches looked up and down the street, they saw that there was some serious residual damage to the street front and the businesses that stood along it. More than one had caught fire, and the damp and sooty exteriors had been flooded but had not begun to be mended. A few no-mag journalists were interviewing the supposed owner of one of the buildings.

"I wasn't far from here, earlier," Goldstein proclaimed, as they reached the street of the main events.

Mayer lined up the camera carefully and took a picture. "Was it really bad?"

"Not terrible where I was, but frightening, let me tell you that much." Not too far away, there were three men trying to right an upended Model T. One was considerably older, perhaps by 20 or 25 years, than the other two. He could have been their boss, perhaps even their father, but was certainly the car's owner. Goldstein leaned in to Mayer and gestured to them. "They look like they've been here the whole time. Let's start there."

There was a flash of the lightbulb and Mayer stood up. "Right, then." She settled the camera to hang about her neck, the heavy thing half supported by her hands, and the two walked towards the men, who had just managed to right their car with a thud and a rattle. One of the windows had shattered, the fender was a bit squashed, but all in all the car seemed better than most things up and down the street.

"Good evening, Sirs," Goldstein announced as they approached.

The two young men touched their caps in greeting, but the older man seemed more disgruntled with the prospects of having to get his car fixed than he was eager to talk to either of the investigators. "Evening, Miss," answered the youngest of the three. He was likely a teenager, or perhaps twenty or twenty-one. Goldstein nodded to him.

"We need just a moment of your time." She paused, but not long enough for any of them to interject or claim that they did not, in fact, have time. That was a rookie mistake she'd learned to avoid. "Regarding the earthquakes earlier, I presume the three of you were here on this street?"

The older gentleman looked up at this, and nodded a stuffy sort of nod. "That's right. I was upstairs in my office when I felt it. Furniture upended all over the place, then we come out to the streets and there's a whole lot of the same." He gestured up and down the street. "There were a few injuries from the falling debris, but they're gone now. You might want to try the hospital if you want to talk to them."

Goldstein made a note of this, then asked, "and did you see, by any chance, any suspicious behavior around that time?"

The man scowled in confusion. "Suspicious behavior? No, no. It's not like a full moon—you can't just sense these things coming." The man was so resolute, and the two men by his side were so adamant that nothing strange had happened before the earthquake that Goldstein could only ask a few follow up questions regarding their own story—yes, they had been there the whole time, and, yes, they would call if they had any more details on the matter—before moving on to the man with the burned-out building whom the press had only just stopped bothering.

He seemed slightly disgruntled at having been bothered twice on the self-same day his building had gone up in flames, but still he stood there outside his water logged and singed building. "Well, it was the earthquake that started the fire, if that's what you mean. But what started the earthquake—isn't that just a matter of the earth fidgeting about? I don't think anyone could cause an earthquake. Maybe the trains, though they've been down there for years now and this is the first time we've gotten an earthquake like this."

Seemingly, he didn't know anything, either. Mayer took a picture of the man, and another of his shop, just for good measure. "Just like no-mag's isn't it?" sighed Mayer with a note of frustration entering her voice. "They're so focused on the things they own that they can't see that there's a problem here that isn't going to be solved by building another skyscraper."

Goldstein craned her neck. It was almost entirely dark now, and the street lights had been lit for some time now. Witnesses were getting them nowhere. If there had been witchcraft involved, which Goldstein had had suspected from the start, then it was going to be harder to track down than by questioning a few no-mag's for their intelligence. She looked up and down the street, but anyone else in the area was similarly inspecting the damage done to theirs or other unfortunates' possessions. "If someone's behind this, they're not still here," she said in frustration.

"You're pretty sure someone's behind this?" asked Mayer.

"It's the most common way to get an earthquake—cast it yourself."

"If someone was here, someone would have seen them," Mayer pointed out.

Goldstein shook her head, not ready to dismiss this yet. "If someone was here," she added, "they might have obliviated them all so they can't tell us anything."

"Fair enough," Mayer conceded. "But, while you're chewing through another method, I think we ought to check the magical energies, just to make sure everything's still in order. You know how the no-mag's like to mess with things they don't understand. Things have been, well, off ever since they all have so much electricity in their homes."

"I have electricity in my home," snapped Goldstein, a little more firmly than she'd meant to. Mayer was alright to get along with, but over the years, she'd grown increasingly touchy when it came to the no-mag question. "It's not going to kill anyone and I doubt it's causing magical interference," she said dismissively. Mayer looked like she was going to fuss, so Goldstein added, swiftly, "but I do agree we should sweep the area for any traces of magic. Of course, we should get the rest of the team on the ground. Who knows, maybe they even found something else since we've been gone." She pulled out her wand, and, after checking for any no-mag's looking her way, flicked her wand and from it came the form of a silvery owl which swooped along the streets and back towards the congress building with her message to the other macuza.

Goldstein checked her watch.

"It's going to be a long night, I think," said Mayer with a slight overtone of haughtiness. Clearly, she couldn't decide if she was upset about being lectured by her fellow investigator or pleased that they were going to try things here way.

Goldstein nodded, and closed the piece. It was nearly seven. She was sure by now that Queenie and Newt had met, and they were all at Jacob's eating some supper her sister had made. The investigator longed to go home to them. However, there was no way around the job—she had to go through it. She pulled forth her wand again and began to mutter, " _revelabit_ ," to herself as she walked slowly down the block and waited for the feeling of an old incantation or an old unsettlement in the area.

Mayer and Goldstein were half way down the block when Dingle and Spawling met them. "Any luck?" asked Spawling, his wand brandished and beginning to sweep the area.

Goldstein knew he was casting some spell, but couldn't tell what it was without seeing the results or hearing the spell. She didn't ask. Instead, she replied, "no, not yet. Either the witnesses have been obliviated or there was nothing to witness in the first place. We have a few pictures, but it's too dark now for any of that. We've managed to sweep half a block between us, but I think we should extend two blocks past any site of visual disturbance, just to be sure."

Spawling nodded, and continued with his voiceless spells.

"Did you find anything else it might be?" pressed Mayer.

Dingle nodded. "Kept up after what Goldstein found. This is likely some ancient magic, which is both good and bad. Good, because it's going to be easier to spot, hasn't been refined as well. Bad, because—"

"Don't tell me the counter's been lost?" Mayer lamented.

Dingle continued to wave her wand as she walked up the street. "I'm not worried about that. All the damage here's been fairly cosmetic. No, the issue I have with it is it's going to be harder to figure out why someone would bring an earthquake to the heart of New York. Most modern spells have common usages, but an older spell could be used for an earthquake—but for what end?"

"Dingle's been fussing about that all evening," added Spawing.

"I wouldn't say 'fussing,' Spawling," replied Dingle.

"Well, I say it's fussing when it hardly matters how the spell was caused. Why would anyone want to conjure an earthquake?"

Goldstein had been working through this all evening, as well. Why would someone want to start an earthquake? It seemed like a rather pointless endeavor, when it came down to it. You put a lot of lives in danger, and for what reason? "A disturbance, perhaps? To cover up for some other activity."

The other Macusa investigators didn't seem to know, either. "Perhaps it really is just the earth that's upset by all of no-mag's electricity," posed Mayer again now that there was a fresh audience for her theory. Tina rolled her eyes, but said nothing as Dingle and Spawling listened, then dismissed the theory about no-mag's.

"There's a more likely scenario," Dingle replied, "that all the discontentment that's taken place on this land has finally cracked it. Perhaps it's the immigrants. We were bound to hit some kind of capacity with all the new people in the city."

Goldstein frowned, but the other two seemed to think the idea worth following. She let them discuss it as she continued to mutter her charms as she walked down the road.

For the next several hours, until the hours of the morning grew small, the small group of makuza walked in pairs up and down the streets, wands flicking and charms muttering as they went. The night grew cold around them, and Goldstein and Dingle began to yawn in between spells, and their chatter stopped so they could use their focus on the matter of their spell casting.

At long last, they met up with the other two and Goldstein could tell at a glance that the others had found no more than had she and Dingle. Hours of work, hours through the long night had all gone to waste, since none of the four had found anything worth noting about the whole affair. Old magic or new, the caster had done a good job at covering their tracks. Either they'd obliviated everyone who had gotten in the way or had otherwise simply used spells which couldn't be traced.

Dingle called them off for the night. She told everyone to get sleep and come in the next morning, ready in case there were more disturbances which might this time get caught in the act. Goldstein said good night and hurried on her way, not to her own apartment, but to Jacob's. She figured that Newt would still be there, or otherwise Jacob or Queenie could tell her where he'd gotten a hotel room, if he hadn't stayed.

When she arrived, it was dark and everyone in the apartment had gone to bed. Newt himself was nowhere to be seen, but Tina saw his coat on the coatrack and his suitcase by the sofa. She smiled to herself—he would be inside there, getting a better night sleep than she would, likely, get on the couch. If it were only a little earlier, she might have considered waking him and taking him back to her apartment. As late as this, though, she took off her coat, shoes, hat, and belt, and made herself as comfortable as she could on the sofa under an afghan, and let her tired mind fade to black.

She was woken the next morning by the sound of shattering glass.


	6. Chapter 6

Tina woke with a start when she heard shattering glass across the wooden floor in the kitchen followed by her sister.

"Oh, sorry, Tini. Go back to sleep, it's not time to wake up yet," Queenie insisted quickly. It was too late for that. Tina had already woken up, and knew that as uncomfortable as the couch was, she would not be able to get back to sleep that morning. She sat up and began to fold the afghan she'd used as a blanket.

"No worries," Tina said, and stood to tread carefully into the kitchen to avoid any broken glass that may still be scattered around the floor. "What's this you've got here?" She looked down at the brightly colored pressed-glass object Queenie had broken. A little wisp of silver was wafting around the shards and Queenie's pink slippers.

Queenie stooped and waved her wand around the wisps, gathered them, and brought the wand up to her temple, where they seemed to absorb into her head. Memories, Tina recognized. She'd been keeping a memory in a bottle, and the bottle had burst. "Nothing, nothing," Queenie said. She stooped down again and muttered, "reparo." The glass came together to form a little pink and blue vial. "There, all better." She put the vial, now empty, onto the shelf, and put a smaller bottle into her pocket. "Coffee?" she asked. "You had a late night last night. Did you find the," she paused, "cause of the earthquake?"

Tina nodded, "I was, and no. Not yet." Then looked over at Newt's suitcase. "Is he up yet?" She didn't want to consider that Jacob had already come in and wondered where his visitor had gotten to. First thing that morning, Tina decided, she would take Newt to her apartment and settle him there to avoid any questioning. It would be especially hard, she added, for him to stay here since Jacob didn't know Newt at all anymore.

"That's sweet of you to think of that," Queenie commented. "No, not since I've been up, at least. Want to knock? I'll make some for him, too."

As Queenie started to flick her wand and conjure water for coffee and summon pastries from the cupboard, Tina crossed to the living room where the suitcase lay on its side. She knocked, and heard some rummaging from inside. "Eh, wotcha!" came Newt's voice, and then she heard the mounting of stairs, and finally the suitcase unlocked and their visitor came forth. "Good morning," he said in a lower than normal voice, making Tina think it was the first thing he'd said all day.

"Morning," Tina said, smiling then at him. "Er…Queenie's making breakfast, coffee if you want any." She saw out of the corner of her eye a cup and saucer had been sent her way, and she caught it in her hand. "Thank you," she called back to her sister, and led Newt over to the kitchen table.

"Okay," announced Queenie, with a tray of breakfast pastries and the remaining two coffees, a bowl of sugar cubes, and a small saucer of milk, as well as butter and jam for the pastries should anyone want them. "What are we doing today?" She seemed as excited as if she were the recipient of an overseas gentleman caller, not Tina. The breakfast goods landed on the table for each of them to take at their choice.

Tina picked up a scone and a croissant from the platter and spread a liberal amount of butter on her plate. "Well, I was thinking I could show Newt back to the apartment and get settled in—" she turned to Newt at that, "Listen, I'm sorry about disappearing yesterday. The whole thing with the earthquake turned out to be more difficult than I had anticipated. I didn't know I'd be leaving you here all night, and we still don't know what caused it, so there's every chance I could be called away again, but," she digressed, "I thought we could catch a game of Quidditch at Ilvermorny Castle. It's not far and it's the Thunderbirds playing the Horned Serpents today. I like to go up for a game when I can…that is if you like sports?" She realized that she didn't know if he would.

To her delight, Newt responded enthusiastically. "I've never been to an American Quidditch game before, but you lot seem to enjoy it. Let's go."

Queenie clapped her hands and looked as pleased as punch. "How exciting." Tina wondered if Queenie didn't have to work, and immediately the blonde looked a little disgruntled. "I could call in sick," she said.

"Queenie," Tina said, warningly, pouring herself another cup of coffee.

Queenie had, in the end, agreed to go to work—she had, indeed, used a lot of her sick days already—as long as Tina took her to the next Pukwudgie game. After a detour at the Goldstein flat, Tina guided Newt through an apparition to the Mount Greylock station, which sat at the base of the mountain on which Ilvermorny castle sat. Newt looked up at the school on the highest peak and asked, "all the way up there?"

Tina gave a little shrug and pulled her hat a little farther down against the wind. It didn't seem so high to her, after eight long years climbing from the bottom to the top and down again, but that wasn't where they were headed. "If we were going to the school, yes. But we're going to the field, which is over there." She gestured to the left, and began to walk.

As they got closer, she could see that, as usual, most of the spectators were students who still attended Ilvermorny, but there were a couple of graduates who still returned to see their house team. There was a sea of red and gold at one end marking the Thunderbirds, and Tina felt the mounting excitement course through her as she led Newt to a couple of free seats. "Oh, they've gotten new score cards, excellent. We'll be able to see from here." She rubbed her hands together, as if the friction could release the excitement she was feeling, and looked at Newt.

Her companion seemed more curious than excited, though there was an unmistakable spark in his eye as he glanced at all the American wizards and witches chatting and laughing or waiting in stressed silence for the game to start. "You know the rules, right?" Tina asked. "It's better when you know how to pay."

Newt tore his eyes off the field, and looked back at Tina. "Er…more or less."

"That's a good start. Let's see." Tina eagerly started to explain to him. "Okay, you start with one team in possession of the quaffle. The chaser can pass or they can fly with the quaffle, but if they drop it or if they're tackled, they lose possession—possession is important."

"Tackle?" Newt interrupted.

"Right, we get good pileups sometimes. It's all a matter of who's a stronger flier at that point, or who's forced off their broom. Tossing the quaffle into the goal is twenty points, but going through with it is worth thirty. Now, the bludgers—"

But the rest of Tina's explanation was cut off as students all around them began to scream and cheer for the teams that were coming onto the field. Tina turned and stood, and began to cheer for the Thunderbirds.

The captains shook hands, the referee stood in the middle of the pitch, and let loose the quaffle and the enchanted snidgett. "They're off!" cried the announcer. "Thunderbirds in possession, and tearing down the field." A burly looking student held the quaffle in one arm as she hurled down the field towards the goal posts. "Oh, look out, there's the Horned Serpents forming a block, and—oh, oh no she's been knocked off her broom!" The girl fell several feet, and then her descent was slowed considerably for the final ten or so feet. Her broom landed next to her, with the same sort of soft thud. The chaser stood up and she shook it off, but by the time she was air borne again, the other team had the quaffle.

"Horned Serpents, now in possession, in a good position to—oh, look out, there's a good whack there by Thunderbird Bludger Barnes!" The player, Barnes, had been knocked off his broom, but had held on so that he could swing around the other side and resettle, but had dropped the ball which fell towards the ground and was picked up by a Thunderbird.

Tina cheered again, and when she returned to her seat, Newt was looking rather quizzical, even as he shouted encouragement at the Thunderbirds. "Oh," she continued her explanation, pointing now at the two players with bats. "The Bludgers are players, not balls, the way we play, who try and knock you off your broom—Don't worry, they're wearing armor." That didn't quite seem to convince him, but neither did it dissuade him from joining in cheering when the Thunderbirds scored the first goal of the game and winning their team thirty points.

Suddenly, the announcer's voice broke through, "And there's Parker, her eyes on the snidgett. She's tearing down the field—and Markus is on her tail. It's a close one between the girls—and there's Barnes coming up behind them, can Markus get there fast enough—No, and Thunderbirds have the snidgett!" Newt stood and cheered louder than anyone at that catch, and Tina beamed. "Fifty-point bonus to Thunderbirds and three minutes left on the first quarter clock."

Newt turned to Tina. "What, the game continues?"

Tina cheered the play for another few seconds before turning to him, hoarse and red-faced, "what, of course not. We're only ten minutes in." She took her seat and Newt sat down next to her.

"And you still play with snidgetts?" He had a real look of amusement on his face now.

Tina flicked her gaze to the pitch, then back again. "Yeah."

"Huh. Never thought it of you."

Tina frowned. "What do you mean?"

Newt gestured to the game. "Well, you know, there are so many innovations coming out of America. In fact, it was an American who invented the snitch. But you still play with snidgetts."

"It's traditional," Tina said, her attention already back on the game. The rest of the game kept Tina firmly on the edge of her seat, and often jumping out of it to cheer. Thunderbirds were up by fifty, but then the Horned Snakes made a couple of solid plays and suddenly they were up. She grabbed and squeezed Newt's hand when the clock started to draw to a close at the end of the last quarter and Horned Snakes were still holding a twenty-point lead. Chaser "Lefty" was pelleting down the field, and all the watchers on the Thunderbird side began to chant for him to go "faster!" to "stay focused!" and to "stay on your broom!" The announcer started to count down, "4…3…2…-and one final goal for the Thunderbirds, bringing the game to four-twenty to four-thirty and Thunderbirds win!"

Tina jumped to her feet, cheering for her team, and was taken off guard when Newt thrust their still-joined hands into the air, his other fist pumping the air. Tina cheered again, out towards the field, and then faced Newt and they cheered practically into one another's faces at the win. With a big smile and the excitement of the win, Tina leaned in, hoping that maybe Newt would take the hint and give her a kiss, but he turned back towards the field and continued to cheer the win as the Thunderbirds made a victory lap around the pitch.

It was several minutes later that they detangled from the other spectators and began to mill about the grounds. The Thunderbird students had, Tina was sure, gone up to the common room to party for the rest of the day, classes be damned, but she was no longer a student, and Newt didn't belong to any house. So, instead, they decided to take a walk around the mountain before heading back to the train station and to New York.

It took almost half an hour for their conversation to move from Quidditch to other things. Newt kept commenting that he'd never been so excited about a chaser score and Tina insisting that the Thunderbirds had really got a good lineup that year. When they reached the back side of the mountain, the terrain had changed from the carefully maintained pitch and lawns of the front of the school. Around the back, leaves littered the path and trees shadowed their way. When they got to one spot, Tina pointed to a small rocky outcropping. It was mostly obscured with oak leaves that had fallen, but a small entrance to the mountain could be seen. "That's where the dwarves lived," she said, matter-of-factly. "That's what the students say, at any rate. I don't know if I believe it, but it's nice to think about. Sometimes, we'd hear the rumbling of their work under ground."

"The dwarves?" Newt let go of her hand and stepped closer to the mouth of the little cave. Tina had only meant to show him a spot only Ilvermorny students would recognize, but he had taken a great deal more interest in it than she'd anticipated.

Tina put her hands in her pockets and followed him towards the little rocky hole. "It's just a story. We figured something had to live under all this mountain, otherwise they'd build the castle somewhere more convenient. Can you imagine building some place like this on a mountain and not having something worthwhile underneath?" They both looked up at the towering, massive stone structure. The sheer impracticality of the building was the only thing about the traditional story that still rang true. "We used to grumble after practice about the long walk up—back then, we thought 'it's got to be strong magic, otherwise what's the point?'"

Newt was still looking at the rocks and started brushing away the leaves. "You played?"

"Yeah, I was a seeker. I was tiny back then, and wicked fast at that. Why, were you—what are you looking at?"

Newt had started to move rocks out of the way, until he reached some too heavy to move. He gave up and dusted his gloves off. "Oh, nothing. Er…yes, I was a chaser. But nobody was trying to tackle me off the broom, either."

"Sounds dainty," Tina teased, and took his arm, not wanting to touch his dirty glove. "What were you doing? Looking for flobberworms?" Nowadays, she doubted anything else was living under the rocks.

Newt smiled, but didn't seem like he wanted to speak his mind just yet. "No, nothing like that. Look, if you're ever in London, I'll take you to see the Holly-Headed Harpies. They're a fantastic team."

Tina had thought he would have said Hufflepuff, his own school house—but remembered that he'd not finished his schooling. Perhaps he still felt some resentment towards the school. "I'd like that. If I can get the time away. It's a little harder, working for Congress, than being an author—which reminds me," Tina leaned close. "I still want my book."

By the time they returned to the station, the sun was dipping behind the mountain and the tracks was cast into a long shadow. When they apparated to New York city, the buildings cast much the same effect, making long shadows down the busy streets. Despite this, it was neither early enough to take a couple of hours for work nor late enough to be sure she wouldn't be called in at a moment's notice. The later it got, the safer Tina knew she would feel. After a moment's consideration, she suggested going back home to see the book, so they set off.

Again, Tina smuggled Newt in, then lit some candles and put some water on for coffee. When that was taken care of, Newt handed her the book, which she brought over to the sofa and cracked open on her lap. She read the inscription, and smiled.

For Tina, who is proof that hearts and minds can open and change.

"Thank you," she mumbled, and began to skim over the next several pages. More than she read it, she looked at the pictures and let herself be led down memory lane with the ones she'd seen last year, and congratulated herself on knowing some of the data about various creatures. "Hey, I remember this little guy. Demiguise. I liked him, once I got to know him a little better." She turned the page.

Newt wrapped an arm around the back of the sofa, and leaned in to point out the entry on Doxies. In the corner was a picture of a tiny, furry, four-legged person with wings. "Ooh, I've never seen one of these."

"Really?" Newt seemed surprised. "They're all over this part of the country, though more common in Canada."

It was just then that Queenie burst into the room. She took off her coat, sniffled, and hurried to the bedroom she was supposed to be letting Newt borrow. "Queenie?" Tina called. "Are you alright in there?" She seemed a little upset, barely holding it together for the sake of Newt's company. She wouldn't have been so considerate if it had only been Tina.

There was silence for a moment, then Queenie came out. "Oh, there you are." She still seemed off, but she hid it better now.

Tina gave her a quizzical look. "Oh? We were here when you came in. Is everything okay?"

Queenie, who had looked miserable just a few moments ago, now looked as cheery as ever. "Oh, sure. I just needed to stop here on my way to see Jacob. Get a couple things."

Tina looked at the clock. It was already five – ten. "Look at that," she said in wonder. She gave Newt a sidelong look. She couldn't very well abandon him to take Queenie aside in confidence, but she had to wonder if there was something she wasn't being told about Queenie's odd behavior. First she was breaking things, then she was having some mighty mood swings. "Will you be joining us tonight?"

Queening pursed her lips and shook her head. "No, I just stopped for a few things. I think Jacob's waiting for me, and besides." She shot Tina a look that seemed to very pointedly imply something. Tina gave her an equally explanatory look, with a touch of hostility at the idea. Queenie shrugged and turned to go.

"Send me a patronus so I know you got there all right," she added. The streets were getting dark and while Queenie was good at charms, she wasn't as strong in defense.

Queenie waved to show she'd heard and went on her way, then stopped and turned. "How was the game?" She seemed to only just now have remembered, but her inquiry didn't ring truly caring.

"It was a good game. We won, at least," Tina replied.

Queenie smiled, then nodded, then turned to go.

Tina turned to Newt and gave him a look that said she wasn't sure what had gotten into Queenie. Then, she remembered he had a brother. "You've got…an older brother, right?" She would have liked it if he'd had a younger brother, because then she could have confided in him about what it was like to have someone to look after.

"That's right." He smiled. "Seeing you with her, you remind me of him. Just a little."

Tina gave him a puzzled look. "How so?"

Newt laughed, almost to himself, but Tina caught the humor in it. "You're both a lot to live up to."

Tina rolled her eyes at the blatant flattery. "Goodness, not you, too."

"Well, did she play quidditch in school?"

"No, no," Tina reflected. "She was the announcer, though. That's something. She was quite good at it, when she didn't get distracted." She picked up her wand and mimicked a microphone. "Tini's reaching towards the snitch, and oh, boys, do you really think so?"

Newt laughed at that. "I see your point."

"It was worse back when she couldn't control it. She couldn't tell when someone was speaking to her, and what's worse was she had no filter at all, because she didn't realize everyone else didn't just say whatever came to mind." She continued laughing until her sides ached. Finally, she stopped just enough to say, "But, I'm proud of her. I think mom and dad would have been, too."

"Have you ever ridden a dragon?"

"What?" The question seemed to have come from nowhere, but Newt asked again, still earnestly.

"Have you ever ridden a dragon?"

"What kind of question is that? No, I haven't."

Newt took her hand again. "There are a few I've been working with." Tina's eyes slid to Newt's suitcase. "Back in Europe," he clarified. "It's like nothing else you've ever tried. The wind rushes past you, the lift from the wings…" His head was getting close to hers now. Tina wondered, not for the first time, if he was about to make a move. She moved a little closer, herself.

"I'd like that." She smiled. But he didn't lean in. He just kept smiling like that, and Tina let her head ret in her hand, and for a long moment, neither said anything. Finally, Tina decided it was time to take a stab at making something for dinner.

She wasn't quite the cook her sister was, but Tina put together a chowder and rolls as they chatted, but just as they had finished eating, the ground began to roll again.


End file.
